


you were the gold, I was green to discover

by pepperpotsnpans



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Divergent after MAG22, F/M, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Jon swears a lot and is good at 1 (one) video game, Lots of it, Martin is the designated friend-with-a-car, Moving In Together, Mutual Pining, Protective Tim, S1 Archive Crew, Sharing a Bed, Slice of Life, canon typical worms, plant mom Sasha, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24938746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepperpotsnpans/pseuds/pepperpotsnpans
Summary: “I, uh, can’t sleep. You were right, that mattress is the worst. Would you mind sharing?”“Lights,” Tim warned as he flicked on his bedside lamp, “Of course, the boogeyman will not get you on my watch, Sash.”-AU where after Martin "meets" Jane Prentiss and worms become their way of life, Sasha asks to stay with Tim. Safety in numbers right? Definitely just friends sharing a bed, and then a home, and helping each other through hard times. And if Sasha doesn't want to move out when this is all over well, that would be fine with Tim.
Relationships: (background) Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Comments: 25
Kudos: 83





	1. weak-kneed sense of bravery

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for flying timsasha airways, I'll be your pilot for today's flight. title(s) from Contrasting Colors by Speak Low If You Speak Love.

“Tim! Wait up.”

Sasha really wasn’t sure what compelled her to reach out. She was tired, even moreso than usual, and about as on-edge as one might expect when you work for a creepy institute and your coworker just resurfaced from hiding from some sort of worm-monster-woman. Alright, what Sasha James really needed was a drink, but had decided in short that…well, Tim might do.

“Yeah Sash?”

“Can I…could I maybe come stay with you?”

Even in the low light of the archive in the evening, his small smile nearly glowed.

“Rather forward today Sasha! Going to take me to dinner and a movie first or are we skipping bases this time?”

She laughed anxiously at his joke, for multiple reasons. “If Prentiss went after Martin, she could come after us.”

Tim’s face fell at that, and he stepped forward to take her other hand. “Sorry, yeah I understand. You can stay as long as you like. Move in completely! I mean, uh – “

Sasha had plenty of possible responses, but considering how much they could jabber on and on, opted for the nonverbal route. Tim gives great hugs, and as she plummeted fully into his arms, she breathed a small “thank you.” He just held her tighter in response, and she couldn’t help but think this was the safest she’d felt all day.

Two hours later, bags in hand, she made her way back to Tim’s on the tube. She tried not to focus on how he hadn’t given her directions and she hadn’t needed to ask. Or on the last time she had come to his place, for dinner that he’d nearly burnt. Or any of the times before that.  _ Ill-fated­.  _ With pursed lips, she hissed to herself, “You romantic idiot, of course you remember which stop is his.”

Trying to dispel thoughts of her favorite coworker didn’t make her ride any more comfortable, she realized grimly. With every shudder of her cab, she worried she’d see – well, something. Prentiss? Worms? Sasha wasn’t sure which was more likely, or which would be worse. Martin had given a full statement but hadn’t particularly felt like sharing with her or Tim. Jon had been shaken, in a way that Sasha had never seen before and hoped to never see again, when he gave them the two minute version. When he’d finished with a flourish (“Oh and I maybe made the executive decision that Martin could stay here, don’t tell Elias - I’ll deal with it.”) Sasha gave him a knowing look and he retreated again to his office. Unfortunately for her, not knowing all the details had been a curse. She had always been intuitive, creative even, and trying to connect the dots between Martin’s sunken eyes and Jon’s hasty exit had proved to be quite the brain-teaser for the rest of the day. The blank spaces only filled with more shadows.

As she and Tim packed up to head out for the night, Jon had emerged to help Martin set up camp and she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.  _ What if I’m next? Or Tim? _

Sasha was still stuck on that thought as she made it up the stairs to Tim’s flat. She knocked twice and he appeared at the door, grin returned full-force. “Hello darling, welcome home.”

Why did his smile have to be so infectious? “Don’t get too excited, Stoker.”

“Oh too late. I love sleepovers you know, you can paint my nails if you let me braid your hair,” he chuckled, ushering her inside and closing the door behind her. Sasha quite liked Tim’s apartment, though it certainly wasn’t as cozy as hers. Worn furniture that she knew he had money to replace but no heart to part with, a stack of architecture books on the coffee table – paired with the single framed picture of Tim and Danny, there really was no denying whose space this was. “Hope you don’t mind, I ordered takeaway already. Figured General Tso’s couldn’t be too disagreeable.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I didn’t even think about dinner I guess. Let me pay you?”

“You can get tomorrow,” he said, and she pretended her heart didn’t leap at his peevish smile. His allusion to their new arrangement wasn’t lost on her, so she wove that particular thread to maneuver safely away from that topic.

“I packed enough for the rest of the week, figured we could reassess as we go?” Sasha really was digging herself deeper here.

Bemused, Tim responded over his shoulder as he took her duffel bag back to his room, “You go through this many clothes in a  _ week _ ?” Once he confirmed she had laughed at that, if only to please him, he added, “I meant what I said Sash, you are welcome here as long as you need. I…have to say I’m happy you’re here. Martin’s cool and all, y’know, but after you mentioned it – I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

He sat on the bed, and after a moment raised his gaze to meet hers, still poised at the door unsure how to respond. This was going to be a long sleepover, and Sasha James had begun to doubt her sanity. There was no way – absolutely none – that Tim still had feelings for her after the way she’d left it when they’d hooked up. She could remember seeing him at work the following Monday, knowing immediately from the look he gave her with those all-too expressive eyes that she had truly and thoroughly fucked up a good thing. And yet here he was now, offering up his flat to her at a moments notice and insinuating that he would protect her until she felt safe on her own.

She joined him, sitting down close enough to feel his warmth. Gently placing a hand on his knee, she spoke, “I understand the feeling. And I do feel safer sticking together. I just wish we had more answers.” The silence returned after Tim hummed in agreement. Under normal circumstances (and she was beginning to doubt they would ever be “normal” again), Sasha would have been content to share the quiet with Tim, but now it had turned unnerving, as if she was waiting to hear the worms here, in his flat.

Filling that space again, she added, “Besides, if something happened to you, I would allow Jon to do unspeakable things. Find some old spellbook in artifact storage and read it in his new Head Archivist voice. Wreak havoc on the worm lady in your honor.” Neither of them can keep a straight face, but Sasha manages to hold her composure long enough that Tim breaks first, laughing. Sasha follows suit and next thing she knows the doorbell is ringing and he’s pulling her to her feet again.

“Silverware in the –“

“Bottom drawer on the left, yes I’m on it.”

Worms mostly forgotten, they manage to have a nice evening eating their Chinese and passing comments about the news back and forth. It’s calming really, to have someone to talk to about mundane things who  _ also _ happens to know about the paranormal horror job you work at. By the time they’re ready for bed, Sasha almost forgets why she is there at all, let alone the inherent awkwardness of what is about to ensue.

“You cannot argue with me, you are taking the bed and that is final.” Tim is smiling again, but it’s got a hard line to it that she recognizes as sincerity.

Without even thinking, Sasha quipped back “I can and I will argue with you. I am not disrupting your sleep like that. Besides isn’t your couch a pullout? I will manage just fine there.”

“But that mattress is so bad Sash, like back cramps for days, capital-B Bad, I can’t let you do that.”

“It is not a big deal Tim. Martin is sleeping at the archive.”

It occurred to her as she put sheets on the couch mattress that one of them probably should have offered to take Martin in. She isn’t naming names, but if someone had a pullout, perhaps it would have made sense to put him on it, instead of a cot in the archive.  _ Jon’s problem, _ she snickered to herself, knowing full well Jon was not equipped to aid Martin in any way, especially knowing Martin’s habit for turning beet red whenever he talked to him.  _ Oh well. Maybe he’ll get his act together. _

Lights out, and Sasha was already regretting her adamance about the couch. It was uncomfortable, in a way where she didn’t quite know what was bothering her. Maybe it was the dingy mattress? Maybe it was the impending doom she felt closing her eyes? Even a little bit may have been due to the nagging feeling that the picture on the wall was…looking at her, actually, but she knew that was silly. Whatever the reason, Sasha James could not sleep to save her life. As if a switch had flipped, she became acutely aware that she might  _ need _ to save her own life in the near future. At any moment, some new unspeakable horror could walk through Tim’s door – if not the current threat, Jane Prentiss, and even then just the worms would be enough…

Sasha did not feel safe  _ at all _ .

Quickly glancing at her phone, she made out that it was 2 in the morning. Surely Tim would be asleep, and she hated to wake him again at this hour, but her chances of sleeping were diminishing rapidly to zero so she hoisted herself up anyway. Padding over to his door, which he had left cracked (she couldn’t remember if he had done this in the past or if it could be something he was doing for her specifically, so she filed it away for later), she gently pushed it inward and whispered his name.

Wincing when he didn’t respond, she tried again louder.

A groggy response came back, “Mmm-Sasha? What’s…need something?”

Tim’s room wasn’t much darker than the living space, but once her eyes adjusted a bit, she could make out that he was now sitting up in bed. She almost laughed at herself for the sheer stupidity of it all.

“I, uh, can’t sleep. You were right, that mattress is the worst. Would you mind sharing?”

“Lights,” Tim warned as he flicked on his bedside lamp, “Of course, the boogeyman will not get you on my watch, Sash.”

She continued into his room, closing the door behind her. Tim didn’t protest, only shifting to make space for her on the far side of the bed. How he knew that Prentiss was on her mind, she didn’t know, and perhaps it was just an educated guess.

“If you want to put a pillow between us or something-“

“No Tim, just another door between me and the outside is fine.”

“I’m here too you know!” He was more awake now as she climbed into bed.

“Doubt I would forget that part.”

Having decided she was safely tucked in or something, Tim turned the light out again and laid down for good. While he was definitely out before Sasha, she had to admit she  _ did _ feel much safer lying there than she had outside. Even as she finally fell asleep, she couldn’t bring herself to admit how much of that had to do with Tim being within arms reach.

It was a relief to wake up in the morning and not have to question being tangled up with Tim. The last time that happened…she wasn’t proud of the outcome and wasn’t keen on trying anything now that she had nowhere else to go. Today he had already gotten up and she was the one left to sleep in, not that she really minded. She rose and dressed from her suitcase quickly in case he came back, and once her hair was up and she felt awake enough, she exited his room again.

Once the smell hit her, her brain froze.  _ No no no way he is cooking me breakfast right now, this is so unfair that he is so perfect. _ Tim was in fact hard at work in the kitchen – already showered, the show-off – and seemed to be making an omelet.

“Good morning! Do you want mushrooms?” 

-

A loud alarm rang out from his cell on the nightstand, and was silenced just as quickly as it had come. Brain foggy still with sleep, Tim noted how unusually warm he was. Sasha had not been shaken by his alarm going off, despite wandering considerably onto his half of the bed. She was pressed up against his side, curled up tightly but looking peaceful and, above all, safe. It couldn’t quite be considered cuddling, Tim decided, but his heart skipped a little regardless.

_ Like the schoolgirl, you are. _

Blushing to the empty room, he slowly removed himself from bed, making sure she was still comfortable. With a pang, he realized she must have done this the last time she’d been in his bed, a thought that put a sour taste in his mouth immediately.

Pushing forward anyway, he headed to the shower moreso to think than to wash up.

Sharing a bed with Sasha James again really should have been the least of Tim’s worries this week – his other co-archival assistant did almost die, after all, and everything that fell out of that mess was very bad news. Even when Jon had told him what really happened with Martin, Tim had managed to keep a cool exterior! All the freaking out was internal and Tim could go about his day in peace to sit and think about his feelings when he got home. But then Sasha – brave, beautiful Sasha – had come to him when she got scared. And if Sasha was scared, then he really couldn’t deny the situation any longer.

Scrubbing at his hair, another image popped into his head of a nightmare he wished to forget. It really did not help that he couldn’t stop thinking of Danny. The fact that Martin had escaped certainly threw a wrench into Tim’s rationalization of it all…if  _ Martin Blackwood _ could escape Prentiss, then why couldn’t Danny escape? What really happened? And the spiral continued until the water ran cold.

By the time he made it back out to the kitchen, he could hear Sasha was up and decided to push away thoughts of his brother again. Right now, Tim wanted to – no. He needed to – focus on the person he could protect and love and try his hardest not to lose. So he did what any rational gentleman would do. Make an omelette.

He had already started when she emerged from his bedroom, dressed for the day, and hair returned to the safety of a bun.

“Good morning! Do you want mushrooms?”

“Ah yes, good morning Tim. Mushrooms sound lovely.” She gave him a warm smile that only encouraged him further, but added sheepishly, “Anything is fine, I’m not picky. I would like to request extra cheese though.”

“Coming right up!” He added the already chopped ingredients to the eggs in the pan and continued, “Did you manage to get some sleep? I hope it was okay that I let you sleep in, just wanted to make sure you caught all the Z’s you could.”

From over his shoulder, Sasha chuckled. “Yes it was ok, thank you. I mean, thank you for all of this, Tim. I felt much better being here than at my flat by myself.”

Tim had too many potential almost-relationship ruining response options run through his head, elected to ignore them, and simply made an affirmative noise as he flipped her omelette onto a plate. He handed it to her with a flourish and a grin, and the one she gave him back tightened his chest a little more than it should have.

When they walked into work together later that morning, Rosie gave them an odd look, but if Martin noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“It’s because Rosie’s the head of the Magnus Rumor Mill Tim, I knew what we’d be getting into here.”

“Yes but shouldn’t – if anyone, shouldn’t Martin be in a long-term plot to get us together? Like we are for him and bossman?”

Sasha stood up straighter and pushed her glasses close to her nose, imitating Jon as she said, “Martin, office romance plots are for the cinema! Bring me another cup of tea!”

Tim tried to make himself taller, and lifting his cup of tea (a genuine Martin Blackwood original, to set the scene) he shot back, “But Jonnnnn! Tim and Sasha have to be the alpha couple so that we can end up paired off for rom-com simplicity’s sake!”

They were still laughing when Jon walked in, or out rather, from his office. He was clearly wearing the same sweater from yesterday, and though it didn’t stop Tim, Sasha sobered slightly.

“Did either of you ever hear back from Tasha Rasheed? Or Melvin…what was his name? Dodger? From the statement about the bees?”

All business as usual, as if there wasn’t a wild worm woman on the loose.

Though Tim realized that was what they were doing, too. Denial is not a good coping mechanism, he recalls from a therapy session after Danny disappeared. But from personal experience - it will get you to your next paycheck.

Work continued almost as if everything was normal, Martin making far more tea than any of them actually wanted, though with deeper circles under his eyes. Sasha made a couple trips upstairs to artefact storage and to speak briefly to Elias about the new guests in the archive. Tim came back from the loo to find a pile of them in front of the archive door and, had he had a weaker stomach, he would have headed right back to the toilet. His finders’ prize was that Sasha would bring it up to management, which worked well enough for him.

The worms (and work, maybe, not that Tim did much desk work these days) were a good distraction from Sasha, though, and failed to remind him that she would be coming back with him to his flat. Indefinitely. Since she had been in and out, Tim could easily pretend that the look Rosie had given them this morning hadn’t been extremely satisfying, that he hadn’t clearly walked into the breakroom while Martin was hearing about Sasha’s night after lunch, and how red Blackwood’s cheeks had been from hearing the details. Tim  _ knew _ that nothing had happened. Nothing at all unusual. Just friends being friends and sharing an apartment. But he reveled just a bit in being the daily office gossip and wished it didn’t have to be just gossip at all.

Martin was understandably less-than-thrilled at 5 when Tim started packing his things. Though he wasn’t sure if it was to knock Rosie off their trail or not, Sasha had gone on another last minute field trip and promised to meet up with him outside.

“Oh is it…is it really 5? I thought it was still half 3. You must be  _ so _ busy Tim! You sure you don’t have anything that needs finished up now?” 

“Martin please. I always leave at 5 on the dot. I – “ Tim took a moment to rephrase his wording, not wanting to make his coworker feel too bad, “—Sasha’s ready to go, too, Martin. You’ll be alright. Jon will literally be here with you all night I’d reckon.”

“She’s staying with you then? For real?”

Surprised at the determination in Martin’s tone, Tim nodded. “Yeah, she figured there wasn’t room for a second cot here.”

Martin laughed darkly, and with a peevish look on his face, said, “Tim, it has nothing to do with room and everything to do with  _ you. _ ”

Bag slung over his shoulder, Tim ducked out to the stairwell hiding a growing blush of his own.


	2. hints of secrets you’ll never tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the gang's all here to unwind in the only way Tim can imagine - a potentially friendship ending evening of Mario Kart

“You’ve got to be kidding me, boss!” 

Despite knowing Jon for years before he became Head Archivist, Tim really couldn’t get over referring to him solely as boss. It was hilarious in a painful sort of way because Jon  _ shouldn’t be anyone’s boss _ , obviously. The man hardly took care of himself, not to mention the job should’ve been Sasha’s. 

Jon didn’t comment on Tim’s choice of words, instead making a face and repeating, “No Tim, I have not played any game at all since Uni.”

Sasha and Martin were looking on from the other side of the breakroom, clearly enjoying this conversation as much as Tim was (which is to say, much _ much _ more than Jon ever could).

“Then you simply  _ must _ join Sash and me tonight for Mario Kart! Oh and Martin, you should come too. Corporate bonding - Elias will love it.”

He glanced across the room back to Sasha, trying to read her approval of his word choice from her expression . They had already talked about having Jon and Martin over, but they still hadn’t really discussed with anyone other than Martin the whole  _ oh yeah, by the way, Sasha and I have been living together for the last week and totally platonically sharing a bed, hope that’s cool, boss. _ He hadn’t said any of that at least, and she was smiling.

“Yeah, come on, Jon, it will be so much fun! Both of you need to get out of here for a while.”

“I - I’d love to come,” Martin said, sounding rather relieved. Tim bit back the urge to pick on his crush some more to waggle his eyebrows at Jon again. 

After a pause, he conceded. “Fine, I’ll join you. Not sure when I’ll finish up here -” 

“I’ll get him to leave,” Martin interrupted. The urge to pick on Martin returned ever stronger. Tonight would be fun. 

Other than Sasha - and Sasha was different - Tim hadn’t had company over in a while. He enjoyed entertaining, throwing parties even, especially when he and Danny were younger. Even after that ship had sailed, he still loved it. Good company had always helped Tim heal, and he hoped (even if he was creating a potentially incendiary situation with his game choice) that it would be good for them all. Sasha had definitely calmed down, but clearly not enough to go back to her own flat every night. Secretly, Tim didn’t want her to, but he’d cross that bridge when they got there. 

Sasha was tidying the coffee table when Tim decided to speak up. Not that there was any relationship going on or anything, but some definitions would need to be set if their boss was going to be...chilling in their space, or artfully lounging, or whatever Jon does in his time off. Martin had mostly stopped bothering them about it, though Tim knew it was fair payback for all the crap they’d cut him about Jon recently, and the Institute at large had mostly stopped questioning when they came in together every morning. Considering the general vibe the archive gave off, most of the other employees steered clear anyway, but he knew that  _ Stoker and James, huh?  _ Was way more believable and interesting than the worm infestation. 

“Sasha, you’re okay with the bossman knowing you’re staying here, right?” 

She stopped to look up at him, eyebrow raised. “Are  _ you _ okay with it? He’s known you longer.”

“Fair point. Still  _ our _ boss, though.”

She seemed to chew on that for a moment before speaking again. “Tim, you saw the way he reacted to Martin’s attack. And with the way he treats him - and clearly has no clue how smitten he is, either - I don’t think he’ll care that we are trying to keep each other safe here.”

_ Here as in we’re sharing my bed now. _

“Okay, he’s just bad at social cues -” 

  
“I know! But he is our friend, is he not?”

Even without the worms, really, or the looming question of what happened to Gertrude Robinson, Jon’s predecessor, they managed to make working at a paranormal institute weird and Tim had learned to live with that. Admittedly, it had been hard to be friends with everything going on, but Tim was determined to push forward. Anything to help them all get through the Prentiss situation was worthwhile to him.

“Yes, you’re right. You’re almost always right.” 

“Almost?” There was that devious light in her eyes, the look she got when she knew she’d won. Tim was finding it harder and harder to deny how good it looked on her.

“Nobody’s perfect, Sash,” Tim lied. 

It was already after 8 when they showed up at Tim’s flat, Martin holding up a 6 pack of something and looking the happiest he had since the Prentiss incident. Jon still looked like a grumpy old man-twice-his-age, but Tim hadn’t expected anything there. 

“Hello hello! Sash, they made it here alive and didn’t even bring worms with them! I’m so proud.” He clapped Martin on the shoulder as they entered, matching his smile. Pushing Jon forward into the living room, they steered off into the kitchen to put away the beer. 

“Knew you could do it, Blackwood,” Tim chided, pulling out a bag of crisps from the pantry, “He’s just staying with you in the Archive, isn’t he?  _ Please _ tell me there’s only one cot.”

Martin’s smile didn’t even falter and Tim smirked. “I’ll have you know that he falls asleep at his desk nearly every night.” 

“He’s tiny, bet you can pick him up bridal style!”

Martin shook his head, starting to lose his composure, “Tim please, don’t -” 

“It’s time to race! Stop snogging in there and get moving,” Sasha hollered from the other room. She could see that they were definitely not doing that, and Tim found it all the more funny anyway. Briefly, he thought about her having some sixth sense of “Tim is bothering Martin, better go save him”, but was mostly able to shake it out of his head by the time he sat down on the couch with her. Jon had picked the chair on the other end, which he had chosen to sit in every time Tim could remember him being there, leaving Martin the only other couch spot.

Sasha had already distributed controllers, and was busy refreshing her memory on the maps, so Tim put an arm each around her and Martin and asked, “So I know Jon is boring and doesn’t play Mario Kart weekly to keep his game up, but what about you Martin? These are things I need to know about people I’m snogging.”

Sasha snorted, and Tim mentally patted himself on the back. 

“Oh I play from time to time. I...I played more in Uni too...uh, obviously.” 

“Well fair warning, I play a lot.” 

“I can confirm that,” Sasha said, the corner of her mouth ticking upward, “Jon, choose your character.”

Finally speaking up, Jon sheepishly looked away from the couch, “I haven’t a clue who I should play as...does it matter?”

All three of them tried to speak at once, before Sasha shushed the others and said loudly, “Yes Jon. It matters very much.” She looked at Tim, and Tim knew exactly what she was going to say next. “Pick Toad.” 

“Toad?” 

“Yes, Toad.” 

“There are...there aren’t any frogs here, Sasha.”

Softly, Martin chimed in, “Jon, Toad’s just his name. He’s the mushroom.” 

Tim hadn’t even started winning yet and this was already a rousing success of a night. Sasha set them up on a tour and they were off, though a little slowly in order for Jon to pick up the controls. With a practiced dexterity, Tim drifted Waluigi around the first bend of Dry Dry Ruins. He almost - emphasis on almost - zoned out enough by the end of the first lap to miss Jon driving poor Toad into the walls and sand constantly. By lap two, TIm knew that Martin (as Peach) was his only real competition, and Jon had escalated to swearing. Loudly.

“Jon, turn the wheel,” Sasha’s voice was calm across the room, and Tim couldn’t help but chuckle. She was firmly middle of the pack, her little Bowser icon occasionally coming close but always falling behind again. 

“Giving up already, Sash?” 

“Fucking...I  _ am turning it _ Sasha!”

“In your dreams, Stoker. The gas Jon, it won’t go if you don’t press go.”

“Bloody hell you stupid mushroom!” 

-

Sasha was no expert at Mario Kart, but she knew how to be competitive and that was dangerous enough. She could tell from the start that Tim was much too focused on his own game to pay her any mind. He was biting his lip a bit in a way that was...distracting, to say the least, but Sasha tried not to think about it. If she stole a glance at him every now and then, no one would notice anyway.

Martin was less focused but still putting out a strong effort. He wasn’t nearly as good at drifting (a life or death Kart skill, as far as Sasha was concerned) as Tim was, and clearly out of practice, but a worthy competitor. Their boss on the other hand was  _ very _ bad, and unfortunately, the teacher in her felt the need to help him. Jon was continuing to mutter obscenities, much to the amusement of everyone else, and after the first race, she stopped giving him tips. 

She had a cup to win, after all. 

“You sure learn fast, Sasha,” Martin chuckled after she had obliterated them all in the second race with well placed bananas and a green shell thrown impeccably at Tim, who had been in the lead up until that point. Considering she’d only managed 8th the race prior, she knew this was a fair statement. 

“She’s learning from the best!” Tim exclaimed, happy as ever. Sasha picked up on the slightest nervous twinge to his tone though, and smiled to herself. 

“I try, I try,” she said, “Jon improved too, didn’t he?” 

“From last to second-to-last, thank you,” he deadpanned, having returned from retrieving a drink for himself. 

Sasha just laughed and clicked through to the next race. Jon really was getting better, if at a snail’s pace. The cursing was still there, and still loud, but had faded to only occasional  _ bloody mushroom _ ’s for the most part. Martin and Tim were both getting more aggressive too, which was amusing. Martin had either decided to be on her side or seized the opportunity to also beat Tim, it was hard to say. Sasha casually drove past them as they kept attempting to undermine each other, one bomb at a time. 

“I hate these smashy-blocky things,” Tim muttered to nobody in particular.

“Excuse you, those are my smashy-blocky things. You come into  _ my _ castle and start insulting  _ my decor _ …” She caught Tim looking at her, eyes soft. He quickly looked away again, teeth finding his lower lip once more.

“Your decor is wonderful Sasha!” Martin said, once Tim had gotten squashed again. 

He managed to take second that time, Tim’s Waluigi looking a bit more deflated. Once they all had another moment to relax, Sasha raised her voice towards Jon again. “Bowser’s Castle is nothing compared to Rainbow Road, just so you know.” 

“Rainbow Road?”

Tim was still acting his usual self, but the nerves were ever slightly more pronounced now. “There are no walls, Jon. Nothing to face but your own mortality, unfortunately.” 

“Just try not to run off the map, ok?” Martin really was kinder to him than he deserved. 

Sasha knew very well that there would be extra swearing this time around, but started the race anyway. It didn’t take very long for Jon to figure out why they’d been warning him.

“You’ve got to be shitting me!”

Even Martin was laughing, and choked out, “Mario is 100% shitting you, Jon.”

“Get ready to swim in it, boss!” 

This race was closer, probably because they had all abandoned hope of attacking each other and were just focusing on driving. Jon was...coping? Maybe? The whole room had gotten loud, matching his level, so maybe he was just lost in everyone else’s excited yelling.

Martin was on a constant chant by lap 2, every turn eliciting an  _ ohmygodohmygodohmygod, _ while Tim was mostly just making non-committal noises that got louder whenever he had a close call. Sasha loved the chaos, loved watching her friends being idiots, and also loved being very good at staying on the track. 

When she emerged victorious, there was another chorus of yelling, and then more laughter while Jon finished out the race. 

“You only fell like, 12 times maybe, that’s not too shabby.” 

“Shut up Tim!”

Jon didn’t want to play again, but was content to watch the others go on without him. Sasha was honestly impressed, because he hadn’t been this...chill since becoming Head Archivist. Perhaps Martin wasn’t being too kind to him at all. Even with the yelling, Sasha was a little sad to see them go. 

“Please go home Jon, you should sleep in your bed for once.” 

Jon didn’t really bother responding to her, and she was sure Tim couldn’t help himself but say, “Oh but Sash, Martin’s cot is soooo comfortable!” 

Martin was blushing at that, but thanked them nonetheless and led Jon out of Tim’s flat. 

“You let me win, didn’t you?” 

Tim had wasted no time getting to the point after closing the door behind Jon and Martin, turning around to face her. 

Sasha quite enjoyed how riled up he was, even if it was over Mario Kart of all things. “Would you even believe me if I told you that you won that round fair and square?” 

His face fell a little, and she felt a pang of guilt. 

“Not really. Not when that was the only race you didn’t make the podium.” 

He pushed past her into his room without waiting for another response. After a moment, she followed after him. If she had genuinely hurt his feelings...she didn’t want to think about it. She could live without ever seeing that look in his eyes again, thank you. She stopped in the doorway, watching him. 

“Sash, I’m not mad at you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” He smiled at her, once he noticed she had followed him, “I just wish you’d told me sooner because we could’ve been playing together all this time.” 

She felt the tension ease a bit in her shoulders.  _ Why does he have to be so goddamn wholesome? _ Now smiling herself, she moved forward into the room towards her things. After her first few days staying with Tim, when it became clear the worm situation was not abating, he had helped her go to her flat to bring back more clothes. Tim was certainly the type to keep a full wardrobe, but he had been so determined to give her some dresser space she didn’t have it in her to argue when he started rearranging his drawers. It was endearing that he was trying to make her feel so at home, really. If only it didn’t make it so much harder to forget they were just friends in a temporary living arrangement.

“I have to keep you on your toes, Timothy.” 

Their bedtime routine had become fairly streamlined - Sasha always took the bathroom first, and was already waiting for him in bed by the time he was finished. It was oddly comfortable to share TIm’s room, and Sasha knew that was a very dangerous comfort. They were very different people than the two who had gotten a little drunk at the office Christmas party once and gone home together. She had resented that night so much, for so long, but life was different now. Work wasn’t the boring office job it had been before. She and Tim...could figure all that out if they wanted to, and Sasha really hoped she wasn’t reading into it too much when she decided that maybe Tim  _ was _ interested in a do-over. She should really just ask - Tim was a talker, even when it came to the hard stuff (sharply, she thought of the night he had told her about Danny, how determined he had been to get through it). 

When he came back from washing up, Tim must have sensed something was wrong.

“It really is okay Sash, I know I’m competitive and all - I’m sure you were just scared to talk yourself up, since  _ of course _ I’m a  _ master _ at Mario Kart, but-”

“I’m wasn’t worried about  _ that _ , no,” Sasha momentarily thought  _ go ahead and tell him what’s on your mind _ and then immediately  _ fuck no shut your mouth,  _ “Just work. Worms. Martin and Jon, I know tonight was good for them.” 

“Oh, yeah agreed.” He got into bed, turning out the light. “Are you…”

“I think I’m good,” Sasha answered without waiting for him to decide on his question. And she was okay, really, it was just that the threat was still there, and Tim was still willing to have her. She wasn’t sure she could bring herself to leave just yet, anyway.

“You’ve always got me, Sash, we’re all going to be okay. Love you, G’night.”

“I know. Good night, Tim,” she considered for a moment, then added, “Love you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was very fun to write, and as always, thank you for reading. Next stop: Tim's flat gets a makeover


	3. standing on soil you never felt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between her recent encounter with Michael and the month she's spent at Tim's now, Sasha decides it's time to move her plants to his flat. Tim is maybe a little jealous of all the greenery. Just a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone else really loved the gardener Sasha headcanon, then you're in luck

If you had asked Sasha James a month ago what she’d be doing on a fine Saturday afternoon like this one, she would not have said “moving my plants into my not-exes flat”, and yet there they were. She’d been by once a week to get things of course, she hadn’t totally abandoned them per say, but what was she to do? Come back for good, stop worrying about Michael, and go back to sleeping alone was probably the adult answer, sure, but Sasha had given up on that.

She was thoroughly fucked, but she had accepted that fact around week two of sharing Tim’s bed.

Tim was eyeing her snake plant with childlike interest, giving it a few pokes and rubbing a leaf between his fingers. He had been apologetic when she asked if she could bring over her plants, as if he should have thought to offer that sooner, but Sasha had insisted it was no issue. She hadn’t stopped him from calling Martin to ask to borrow his car, though, or from deciding that they had to do it that very weekend. It had been odd that Martin hadn’t asked to come with them, but Tim simply shook his head when she mentioned it. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever kept a plant in my life. It’s not that I don’t like them, just always had enough of ‘em outside, I guess,” He said, having moved on to the next specimen, a palm in the corner. 

“Don’t you love the outdoors, though? Aren’t you a - what did you call yourself last week, a hiking fiend?”

“Of course. A kayaking connoisseur, even.” 

Sasha rolled her eyes. “Well I like the outside too, just in my case never got out as much. So I brought the greenery to me.” 

He seemed to mull that over for a moment, taking down the donkey tail hanging above the window. Sasha pretended not to watch him as he did so. Of course the  _ bastard _ put a too-tight shirt on today.

“We could go sometime, y’know. If you want. I’d been thinking about going out to Scotland to hike around sometime, before,” he gestured vaguely in front of himself and she nodded in understanding.

“We could. Maybe not something quite so serious. I’d feel...guilty, leaving Jon and Martin to the worms.” 

Looking at his feet, Tim added quickly, “Yeah maybe not now.”

Sasha pursed her lips, leaning down to pick up some spare pots. When she came back up, Tim was looking at her again, and she sent him a small smile before he could look away. “Yeah. Not now. But I definitely want you to take me with you when we can.” 

His beaming back at her was all the response she needed. 

Sasha truly did enjoy filling her space with plants, and though it was a hassle for the two of them to transport them, they were able to fill Martin’s car and prepare to take them back across London to Tim’s. Doing one last check around her flat, Sasha was struck by how wrong it now felt. Not excessively scary or anything, but not quite  _ hers _ anymore. She figured that was primarily due to the encounter she’d had the last time she’d come back with that thing calling itself Michael. She hadn’t told Tim about first seeing it through the warped glass in her stairwell until after the fact and he’d been very serious when he said  _ Jon can say what he wants, but let me go back with you the next time you go _ . Tim was overreacting a bit, at least when it came to Jon. He’d offered her a break from work and had been (in his own way) warming up to them as of late. 

She’d spent her time off at Tim’s anyway, even if she knew another encounter with Michael was unlikely. The gangly, boneless figure she’d seen through that window had almost taken over for the worms in her nightmares. 

Staying with Tim was probably the other reason her flat didn’t feel like home anymore. It had been weeks since she properly lived here and, though she loved the old house dearly, she didn’t miss the commute or living alone. Even like this, with their relationship still a question mark, Sasha found that she’d rather be with him than out here by herself. Lately, the lines had been pretty blurred. Nights of poorly cooked dinners or takeout and the occasional 3am comforting after a nightmare were their new normal. 

She had gotten used to settling a little closer to Tim in bed each night and if he had a problem with it, he didn’t say.

“Everything’s squared away outside, you ready to go?” 

Sasha didn’t mean to jump when he spoke, he had just startled her. “Oh, yes. We can go.” 

As Tim started the car (Martin’s ancient Nissan sputtered, but survived), he turned to look at her expectantly. 

“What?”

“Could we...could you help me pick out a plant? 

“We have plenty to choose from now, sure.”

“No! I mean-” Tim sighed and returned his focus to the windshield “Oh nevermind, you’re right.” 

Sasha couldn’t help but smile. “Tim, you mean you want to go get something new?” 

His reply was sheepish, “Uh, yeah. You clearly have a lot of experience and I don’t exactly decorate, let alone keep living things in my flat.”

Sasha knew she was the exception to that. 

“Of course, there's a nursery not too far from here. I can pull up directions.” 

Tim turned up the bland pop on the radio while they drove, and Sasha spent some thought on what he might like to grow. An image flashed through her mind of Tim gardening, covered in soil and laughing. She’d thought on occasion how nice it would be to move out of the city one day, to the suburbs or even the country. In the years she’d known him, she may have entertained the idea of Tim going with her.  _ What an adult sort of dream, _ she thought,  _ just wanting to grow things with good people. _

“Whatcha smilin’ about?” 

“The plants, of course.” She had a pretty good idea of what sort of plant Tim needed. He was just starting out, after all. 

The nursery wasn’t too busy, which Tim took as a sign that they should look at every single plant they had. Sasha nicely shooed away the clerk that offered their help and tried her best to rein in Tim as he flew down a new isle. 

“Woah, these are very cool. Too cool for me, though, right?” He said, pointing towards a cabinet of orchids. 

“Absolutely. I don’t even keep them, they’re too picky.”

“Oh but Sash, you have so much experience with picky! Just think of all the report revisions you do for Jon. Or the time you tried to make Martin’s tea for him.” 

“Not to mention yourself.” 

“Come on I’m not picky! Just think of my closet Sasha, think of all the glorious options I keep on hand at all times. You’ve been around enough to know that every morning I practically pick one at random, too.” He had a point, but she still smirked knowingly. 

“Yeah, but don’t you pay ridiculous attention to, like, the length of your shirts? For ‘the perfect tucked or untucked look’, I believe you called it.” 

He blew a raspberry at her, inspecting some interesting looking mums.

“I actually think you should get something rather low maintenance. Maybe a cactus?” 

He straightened up to look back at her again, warm smile replacing the playful pout he’d been sporting. 

“You calling me a  _ prick _ , Sash?”

“Fuck off, Stoker.” 

He led the way over to a table of succulents anyway, unfazed by her reaction to his pun. Sasha watched as he picked a few up to examine them more closely. His sudden fascination was endearing, really, even if she thought he might be doing it for her enjoyment. She knew he liked to hide behind his good looks and humor (both things she had to credit him for, honestly), but Tim was a smart man. He knew quite a lot about a lot of random things, mostly from his time in publishing. It was entirely possible he  _ had _ kept plants before, though she trusted him to be honest with her. She also knew he was completely capable of caring for a plant less hardy than a succulent, but they’d get there eventually. 

Tim was clearly between two, regarding them in his hands with a furrowed brow. 

Feeling herself smile again, she nudged his shoulder to get his attention. “You know, I already have spare pots and soil for them. You can get both.” 

“You should work here y’know, you are a  _ fabulous _ plant saleswoman, Sasha James.” 

-

Tim didn’t know much about caring for plants, but he knew they definitely made Sasha feel better, so how bad could it be? The whole way back to his flat, she chattered in the passenger seat about where they should put each one. He understood that his new cactus children would be chilling on the windowsill in their room, next to her succulents and a fairly tame rubber plant. 

“I’m fairly certain the bedroom window gets the most light and you’ll be able to see its progress every day, if you’d like.” 

Tim’s brain was still stuck on it being  _ their _ room, but he nodded along with her analysis. 

It took nearly an hour for them to get everything into the living room and somewhat organized. 

“We’ll probably need to adjust placement to figure out what they need, but I think our plan will work,” Sasha said, more to herself than to Tim. He knew that the plan was entirely her own, and she was probably also aware of that fact, but he didn’t mind. It was refreshing to watch her so excited about something. If she wasn’t thinking about work, particularly the monster guy she’d met recently, Tim would count the day as a success. 

She was already picking up her palm and moving it towards the other end of the room. Realizing he should probably just cut her loose, he offered, “I should probably clean up a bit anyway, we can reorganize all over if need be.” Fetching some supplies, he got to dusting while she fiddled with another leafy green.

Tim had known this from being at the Institute, but they worked unfairly well together. In record time, his flat was looking better than new. Maybe it was the influx of oxygen or Tim just being lightheaded from being around her, but it felt so undeniably homey now. He stepped back from rubbing the grime off the window, his last task complete, and admired their handiwork. Sasha was just finishing up repotting Tim’s succulents. She was sitting on the floor and rotating the pot in her hands, checking if she was happy with the arrangement. Noticing him, she gestured for him to come over. 

“They like rocky soil and nearly no water, okay? That’s pretty much all you need to know.”

“Dry little dudes, eh?” Tim took the pot from her and helped her to her feet. “You said these are going in the bedroom?” 

“Yeah, they’ll like the sunlight there, I reckon.” 

As he placed them next to hers, he looked back at her over his shoulder. “You know, this is about as lively as this room has ever looked! And that is including both last month’s Mario party and last Halloween’s - uh, event.” 

Sasha laughed, “I’m glad you’re enjoying them already Tim.” 

By the time they were ready to go to bed, they had safely returned Martin’s car and Sasha had actually taught him quite a bit about plant keeping and they’d managed to avoid having to talk more about anything dark. A fine break from the work week, as a Saturday should be. As they settled in for the night, Tim remembered the way she’d looked before they’d left her place earlier. He couldn’t be sure what she’d been thinking, but he had a few ideas.  _ She probably wants to go back, but that creep she met is giving her second thoughts. _ It was a lot kinder on Tim than just thinking  _ she’s probably sick of me,  _ so he stuck with it. 

He was stirred from his thoughts as she re-entered the room, bringing a glass of water with her.

“Thanks again for letting me bring them all here, and for coming with me,” she said, turning out the light and climbing under the covers. Tim put down his phone and laid back, suddenly very aware how closely she’d settled in. 

“It’s no problem, Sash. Sorry I hadn’t realized how worried you were about your kids. Aaaand I know you’re a strong independent woman, but somebody needed to drive that thing Martin calls a car.”

Sasha fell silent again and Tim thought momentarily that he’d misspoken. 

“Tim...may I?” Inching closer, she was definitely on his side of the bed at this point. His eyes were still adjusting to the low light, but he could tell she was nervous. It wouldn’t take much to put his arms around her - oh how he’d wanted to hold her all this time - but she seemed so fragile in that moment. 

Hell, Tim wasn’t feeling all that stable either. In that moment, he was certain she would be the death of him. 

“Of course, come here.” 

From an outside perspective, not much had changed other than them moving to hug one another, but to Tim it was like a switch had flipped and landed his heart in new, terrifying territory. Sasha clung to him, hands fisted in his shirt and hair sticking to his face. He didn’t care, only squeezing her closer when he heard her sniffling. 

“I’m just a wimp, aren’t I? I hate our job, I hate wanting to stay, I hate not feeling comfortable in my own home anymore.”

She was really going for the jugular tonight. 

“Sash, you are not a wimp, you’re a good person. You really let this Michael character get to you, but who wouldn’t? I mean if I’d met the guy I’d have punched him. Not a lot of trust in those types.” An image of Grimaldi flashed in his mind, but Tim pushed it aside. 

Sasha leaned back to look at him, as if she knew he was bordering on bringing up Danny, and lifted a hand to his face. It was a little clumsy, just a gesture of support, but he almost lost it anyway. Pushing forward, he leaned his forehead against hers.  _ Might as well dive head first, right? _

“Tim I-I’m not sure if I can go back to living there, at my old flat. I can never...understand how you feel, what you went through, but I think I’m a little closer now.” 

Instincts betraying him, Tim blurted, “I don’t want you to go.” 

She fell silent for a few agonizing seconds, before whispering, “Ok.”

Tim was digging his own grave and he knew it, but he wasn’t one to half-ass anything. “I don’t want to be a burden, but honestly I don’t want to go back to living alone. Back then, it wasn’t good for me. And if this is where we’re headed with the worms and all then…”

“No, Tim. It’s alright. I want to stay. I’m not sure I’d do all that well on my own either.” 

_ She wants to stay? _

Tim waited a little longer than he should have to respond, but figured better late than never. She had returned her head to his chest, nestling in and giving him some breathing room again. “We’re quite the mess.” 

Sasha nodded in response, chuckling as she agreed. 

“At least we’re being messy together?” 

“Sure are,” Tim sighed, unable to ask just what she meant by  _ together _ . “By the way, I wouldn’t...we can sleep like this, if you want. It’s comforting, knowing you’re here. And it doesn’t have to be -” 

“Right, yeah. I’m comfortable with this, if you really don’t mind…”

“I don’t mind at all.” Tim definitely  _ minded _ , but not in a way he was willing to express right now. It was too late and his brain was too foggy. 

He twisted more onto his back, pulling Sasha over so she could curl into his side. She fell into place a little too easily, mumbling, “You still give rather nice hugs, Stoker.” 

“Martin hasn’t beaten me out for the Best Hugs Ever award?” 

Tim felt her smiling. “Not a chance.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're feeling it now Mr. Krabs. Thanks for sticking with me for this very different slice of life than the last one. Preview for next chapter: the best sushi place in London, at least according to the Magnus Institute archives staff


	4. taste just out of reach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim smirked. “Do you think they’ll let me in the restaurant with it unbuttoned this much?” 
> 
> Tim and Sasha get some sushi and have some feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter, life happens. (It was basically finished days ago, I admit.) Enjoy!

“Sorry mate, Jon and I actually have plans for Friday.” 

Tim groaned in response. “Martiiiiin please. It's such a good time to let off some steam and unwind from our wormy work week!” 

“Yes, but Jon and I are going to do something else this week.” 

Pouting, Tim continued. “Are you telling me that bossman is taking you out on a date? For the second week in a row!” 

Martin’s face was painted with a grin and, seemingly without a care in the world, he said “Maybe.” 

Tim knew that Martin had just fallen asleep early last week, and Jon wasn’t going to come without him (or wake him, apparently), but if Martin was playing along then Tim was going in deep. 

“Dinner and a movie?” 

“Like I said, maybe.” 

“Martin Blackwood you look way too pleased with yourself, y’know.”

“You could,  _ y’know _ , take Sasha out.” 

Tim could feel his face reddening again, but knew he wasn’t escaping this one. “Sure I could.” 

“Like a real date, Tim.”  _ Commence the patented Stoker eye roll _ . “Tim, come on. It’s time. It’s been months now.” 

Martin wasn’t lying, it had been long enough. Tim had grown so used to her company he had somewhat forgotten. Sasha had cancelled her lease on her old flat and every night they slept curled up around each other to varying degrees. If she wasn’t at least a little interested in going on some mundane date with him, then this whole situation had been cursed from the start. 

“Is this you admitting Jon is taking you on a date?” 

“In your dreams, Stoker.” 

“What’s Tim dreaming about now? The perfect hawaiian shirt collection?” 

Sasha stood at the door of the breakroom, leaning against the frame mug in hand. 

“Oh hey Sasha, I was just telling Tim that I have plans with Jon and can’t come to pub night this week.” 

She came over to them then, rinsing out her mug. “Ah that’s too bad. We’ll be alright without you I’m sure.” 

Mentally flailing, Tim said, “Yes we will. In fact, let’s do dinner. That sushi place not too far from mine?” 

Tim didn't know what possessed him to suggest something so...obviously date-like as a nice dinner.    
  


“Okay, sounds good.” Sasha had hardly reacted. 

Martin was snickering, wiggling his eyebrows at Tim in some mockery of his usual antics. He pushed away, leaving only the scent of chamomile in his wake. It got painfully quiet when Sasha turned off the tap again and Tim could feel her eyes on him. 

“They’re still arses for calling off again.” 

Meeting her eyes, Tim decided that even if this hopefully-a-date crashed and burned, at least he’d go down swinging. 

They managed to avoid saying anything further until it was right on their doorstep. Jon hadn’t had all that much for them today and okayed both Tim and Sasha dipping out an hour early, which made the tube ride back to Tim’s - their - flat a bit more enjoyable. They still stood in a companionable silence most of the way, only making small talk every once in a while to comment on someone’s interesting clothing and share a quiet laugh. Sasha finally asked about their plans when they’d made it to the elevator of the building. 

“So, what time were you thinking for dinner?” 

“I actually, um, made reservations for 6 if that’s alright?” 

She raised an eyebrow but still nodded her agreement. “Yes that’s _totally_ acceptable, Timothy.” 

“I could call and move it to exactly 6:07 if you’d like.” 

Her eyes had that twinkle again, unmistakable when he turned to catch her gaze over his shoulder. “You’re an idiot.” 

“ _ Your _ idiot, Sasha James. I’m going to change before we go...spiff up a bit.” 

“Oh are you? Haven’t had an excuse to dress up in a long time I guess, that would be fun.” 

“You know I’m the life of the party, Sash. Of course it will be fun.” 

He definitely saw her blushing as they put their things down in the kitchen.  _ God she’s adorable.  _

Tim knew it was probably overkill to actually dress up - it’s not like Sasha would care if he wore a total dad outfit, or socks with his sandals or anything. But he was trying to do this right and he knew a nice shirt was the bare minimum he could start at. Even as he stood in his room, picking between button-ups while she waited her turn, he hoped she knew that the extra effort was for her. It had been for a long time, too, but Tim let that slide and finally put on a shirt (and he was no dummy, he knew one on the tighter side was a good idea).

“I’m done in here, you can go off now.” 

Maybe he just knew her too well, but she didn’t seem to try to hide that she was looking him up and down as they switched places. “Cleaned up nice for me, huh?” 

Tim smirked. “Do you think they’ll let me in the restaurant with it unbuttoned this much?” 

Her response was muffled by the door closing behind her. “Dare you to find out for yourself!” 

She probably took less time than he had, but definitely came out looking better. Tim tried to keep his cool of course, and he’d seen her in this kind of thing before, but the idea that she was dressed up  _ for him _ had thrown him overboard. 

With a knowing smile, she readjusted her dress a bit and said, “I’m going to wear my raincoat, do you want yours?” 

Tim’s mouth was a little dry, but his brain caught up to his ears fast enough. “Y-yeah. That’s probably a good idea. You’re full of good ideas.” 

“You bet I am.” 

Wanting to not make too big a fool of himself, Tim took his jacket from her and pushed forwards towards the door. The restaurant was only a couple blocks away, and they had managed to avoid any major rain on their trip. Sasha still splashed through a few puddles on the way, giggling a bit but making sure not to get any on Tim. 

They managed to get a fairly secluded table towards the back of the place, where the calming music was a little lower and the lights a little dimmer. Tim let Sasha slide into the booth seat against the wall, and voice low, he said, “What are we drinking tonight, Miss James?” 

“So we’re making this an occasion, are we?” 

“Do I dress like this everyday, Sash?”

“Fairly often -”

“Touche.” 

“-but you can pick a wine, you know what I like.” 

Tim grinned back at her, and ordered a bottle at the first chance he got. They fell into easy conversation over an edamame appetizer, and Tim could feel his nerves over the whole situation fading to the background. Neither of them had called it a date - a fact he was very much aware of - but there weren't a lot of other ways to describe what they were currently doing. Tim wasn’t even hiding it anymore and he probably looked thoroughly besotted the whole meal. It’s not like he could help it when she looked like that, the fake candle on the table reflecting in her glasses and her hair bouncing off of her shoulders when she laughed. 

“So what  _ do _ you think Martin and Jon are up to tonight?” 

“Obviously they broke into Elias’ office to do dirty things on his desk, what else?” 

Sasha tried to contain her laughter then, if only to keep from drawing unnecessary attention to their table. “I’m fairly certain that isn’t how they roll, Tim.” 

“Oh you mean Jon? Yeah I know, but that Blackwood...who knows what his story is.” 

“He writes poetry, I believe.” 

Tim snorted, narrowly avoiding the roll of sushi being placed in front of him. “So I’ve heard. Honestly - I mean, in my experience, Martin has been a little bold recently. Maybe he’s started sharing poems with him or something.” 

“In your experience? Like Martin started giving you poetry too?” 

“No! Like…” Tim realized he could incriminate himself here very easily, so he took his time to finish. “Like he claps me back on occasion. Which I love for him, obviously. But it is different.” 

Sasha didn’t question it further. “Hm, I certainly like that for him.” She took a bite of one of the rolls they’d ordered (they’d gotten a few to share, of course) before adding, “What if they actually are on a date right now? Wouldn’t that be mental?” 

_ Come on Stoker, just say something. _

“If they saw us right now, I bet Jon would say much the same.” 

The look that passed between them then was charged in a way Tim couldn’t tell what it meant. He really wanted to look away, stuff more sushi in his mouth and forget about it, but he couldn’t. Sasha was captivating, and was clearly trying to make up her mind on how to proceed. After a tense moment - which felt like hours, despite being seconds - her expression softened into a smile. 

“We could ask him, you know.” 

-

Sasha had everything and nothing to say at the same time. It wasn’t some huge declaration of love, or an outlandish proposal, just Tim carefully saying something that was only scratching the surface of feelings she was now sure were lurking behind those stupid, beautiful eyes of his. Not his usual way of dealing with things, she knew, which only added to her conviction that he meant what he was saying.  _ This  _ is  _ a date. _

And her gut reaction was far too simple for this very complex emotional situation. 

She was very happy to be on a date with Tim Stoker. 

It wasn’t like she hadn’t suspected as much, especially when he came out with his shirt precariously buttoned, or when she decided to put on a dress in case it would get to him like he always got to her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t moved into his flat and cuddled up to him each night and hoped that they could try again. 

But before she could get her mouth to move and form words like those, quite the distraction walked into the restaurant. Martin Blackwood, leading their boss Jonathan Sims by the hand up to the hostess station and then to a table on the opposite side of the room. 

Tim looked confused, and maybe a little hurt, but she would make up for it soon enough. Sasha wasn’t about to ruin this a second time, but there were coworkers to stalk.

“Tim, on your six. Casually.” 

Tim was definitely pleased with this development, and went back to happily scarfing down sushi. 

“Oh Sasha, this is quite the situation we’ve found ourselves in. We might just have to drop by on our way out, don’t you think.” 

“I can’t think of a better way to end our date, Tim. Crashing theirs with you would be an honor.” 

Years of practice studying his smile paid off then, as it widened nearly imperceptibly, but enough to know he’d heard her loud and clear. 

A little too excited, they agreed to skip dessert. 

“Give that to me,” Sasha said when the bill arrived, “Don’t even try to pull some gentleman shit on me, it’s my turn.” 

“Sashaaaa.” 

“You heard me, besides, if you let me pay you get the bonus of getting to go over there without me first.” 

He pursed his lips, “Ok fine. But I owe you a fancy dinner!” 

As soon as Sasha’s card was whisked away, Tim winked and was gone, over to bother Jon and Martin. She didn’t even care when she smiled a bit too much at the waiter, tipped a little generously, and enjoyed the buzz in her head as she followed him over. 

“Oh, hello Sasha,” Martin said, face growing ever redder at the sight of another coworker. 

Tim slung an arm around her, turning to Jon and saying, “I’m glad you took my advice boss, this place really is the best.” 

“I can’t say I…” Jon made eye contact with Martin, clearly rethinking his word choice “...yes. Thank you for the recommendation, Tim. What brings  _ you _ here, Sasha?” 

She gulped a little, leaning into Tim a bit, “We were here together, Jon. And we are heading out, don’t worry.” 

“Yeah can’t interrupt bossman’s date, that would look bad on my next performance review.”

“Tim I don’t think this constitutes -”

“Can you imagine Elias’ face when he says  _ Mr. Stoker, I hear you’ve found the best sushi in London _ ?” 

“Alright,” Sasha said, chuckling, “That is enough Tim, lets go.” 

“But Sashaaaa!” Martin was smiling again, and Sasha playfully dragged Tim away from their table. 

The blush came back almost instantly, as Sasha turned back to say, “No funny business in the archive you two. That’s our thing.” 

“Sasha!” Jon said, and probably swearing under his breath.

“Have a lovely date night, you...lovebirds.” Tim laughed, grinning, as they finally exited the restaurant. It was only drizzling lightly, and it took Sasha a moment to notice Tim had taken her hand. They walked in comfortable silence for a moment, before he spoke up again, “And to think we could’ve been on a double date this whole time.” 

“I can’t imagine being on a date with Jon though, even as a third or fourth wheel.” 

“We’ll have to make Martin give us a full report, obviously. Maybe he’ll write us a slam poem recreation of the event.” 

It was not lost on Sasha that continuing the conversation helped calm her nerves, which were only growing as they neared their building again. Tim seemed tense too, mechanically pushing elevator buttons once they’d made it back. They grew quiet, small talk dying out until they had re-entered their flat. 

Admittedly, Sasha hadn’t really gotten this far in thinking this through. She quickly hung her coat and removed her shoes, only to nearly run into Tim as she moved forward. He was making a face that let her know he was trying to decide what to say, so she waited. She didn’t trust herself to say anything anyway - all she could hear was her own heartbeat and her hair brushing against her back as she swayed slightly. 

“Sasha, I don’t want this to be weird or anything, I just…”

Feeling bold and suddenly calm, Sasha just steadied herself with a hand on his chest and leaned up to kiss him. Tim immediately moved to match her, an arm snaking around her waist and a hand in her hair. It was gentle, and felt for all the world like the real first kiss Sasha had always wanted with him. Before it had been all hurried and boozy, both knowing they would want to forget this even if they never really could. Now she wanted to memorize every detail. The feeling of his hand on her lower back, her slight awareness of his heartbeat from pressing up against him, the soft smile on his lips as they moved against hers. 

When they parted, she motioned them further into the living room and sat down on the couch, patting the space next to her. Tim obliged and went to speak, but Sasha beat him to it. 

“I don’t want it to be weird either. I just want it to be us.” 

Tim closed his mouth (he probably hadn’t realized it was still open) and took her hand. “I...just so it’s clear Sash, I want whatever you want. I want to keep you safe and happy and we don’t need to be  _ an item _ for that to happen, but -” 

“ _ But  _ we both want to be, right? Tim, I just can’t fucking believe I was ever willing to give you up for a stupid job at the stupid Magnus Institute. I have wanted to undo that for so long, so if you’ll have me I’m yours.” 

Sasha paused, taking in his expression. She was aching for more of him, knowing that there was always a chance this would be all she could get. It was equally freeing and terrifying to know that he felt that way too, like they were both standing on the same cliff and just waiting for the other to jump. 

“Tim, I don’t know where I’d be right now without you. You know that right?” 

“And you know I love you, right?” 

She smiled, unable to contain her childlike glee at the thought. Tim told everyone he loved them, a habit he’d often said he got from his brother. And Tim was one of the most infectiously bright people Sasha had ever met, so of course she’d grown accustomed to repeating those words back to him. His voice was different now though, lowered and raw. She knew the difference.

“I love you too, idiot. More than you know.” Her voice came out tender, and she squeezed his hand in affirmation. Momentarily, she tried to read his expression, but was quickly lost in his arms as he barreled forward to hug her again. They held each other for a long while, neither really wanting to let go. Sasha didn’t just feel safe here - she was home. 

When Tim finally pulled back, his ridiculous smile had found its way onto his face again. Sasha hadn’t even realized she’d been teary-eyed until then, and wiping her eyes she asked, “What are you looking at?”

“ _ My _ Sasha, that’s who.”  _ What a doofus... _ my _ doofus. _

“Yes of course. Unless there is a second Sasha lying around here somewhere that I don’t know about?”

“I thought all the plants had other names? Why would you name a plant after yourself?” 

“Ha ha very funny, you know I would never do something so self serving!” Sasha rose now from the couch, missing Tim’s warmth immediately but not in the same way she did before. Now she could come back to it whenever she wanted. 

“Where are you going, Miss James?” She didn’t have to look at him to know he had raised an eyebrow at her.

“To put some leggings on while you set up the telly.” 

Both eyebrows were raised when he asked, “Netflix?” 

Sasha smirked, sticking her head around the frame of the bedroom door to catch him looking. 

“You picked dinner, I pick dessert.” Sasha winked, pointedly looking at his chest. Dropping her voice, knowing she was stating the obvious, “Not that it took me long to pick with you dressed like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! You are all too kind But wait - there's more. One more chapter is coming your way. And of course, your preview for that chapter is the following: Jon gets better at video games.


	5. fall into place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim comes home from the hospital after the Prentiss attack on the archive, and to cheer up, Sasha suggests another game night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is where the cw for canon typical worms comes into affect, but I promise it's brief!

Sasha knows with her entire being how fragile life can be. She has seen (in this year alone) more horrors than she can imagine and felt more fear than she ever has before. But when Tim calls her, voice shaking with what she knows is relief and joy and also he’s probably crying, knowing him, all her worry is replaced by a calm determination. 

“Tim is coming home today,” she said quietly to the plants in their flat, and then repeated it happily to Martin on the phone, who immediately jumped to come pick her up. 

“Jon is doing okay by the way,” Martin said softly as they stopped at a traffic light not far from the hospital. It was pouring outside, and his words were accompanied by the unfortunate squeak of worn-out windshield wipers. 

“Bet they fed him better at the hospital than he feeds himself. How’s he look?”

Martin grimaced, “The scars are a lot, if I’m being honest.”

_Scars_. Sasha hadn’t expected that one, but realized quickly that she should have. She’d seen what the worms were capable of and remembered vividly what they had looked like when the ambulance finally arrived that day. She and Martin had been mostly spared, save for one or two bites. Going from what she’d seen of Tim, delirious as he was, he and Jon would never look the same. 

“I can imagine...how are, uh, _things_ between you?”

Martin continued to make a face, which worried Sasha further. 

“You know how Jon is. He’s - lets just say his world view was seriously challenged? We are _fine_ , really, truly. He’s really opened up to me, but I can tell he’s…” Martin let his voice fade away as they began driving again. After a moment he continued, a bit rushed, “Stressed, I reckon. I mean, how are things for you and Tim?” 

Sasha wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. She knew their relationship was new - Tim had now been in the hospital for over half of the time they’d officially been together - but it didn’t really feel that way. It had been very odd to be without him for so long. Not that Sasha couldn’t take care of herself, or was scared to be on her own, of course. Prentiss being dead finally put an end to much of that fear, though Michael also held fast in her mind. And yet...there was waking up alone and wishing Tim was home. Humming the jingle he’d come up with about watering the plants. Arguing with her over who would foot the next takeaway bill. 

He had still called her regularly and texted her when he got bored of quarantine (which was multiple times per day). Sash could tell it was wearing him down, as his jokes got more hollow as the first week passed by, and towards the end of the second he was rarely making them. 

Turning to face out of the passenger window, Sasha said, “Tim isn’t himself yet. It’s hard to tell, but I have a feeling we’re fine. I know he’s missed me.”

Martin’s voice ticked upward, “And how do you know that?” 

Sasha smiled, “He reminded me constantly.” 

Tim was already waiting for them under the large entrance awning, bandages covering parts of his face and a bag of his things slung over his shoulder. There were noticeable bags under his eyes, too, and Sasha felt her heart squeeze. 

“Sasha and the Martin-mobile! What a welcome party,” Tim said, amused. He dropped his bag when Sasha was finally within arms reach, pulling her into a tight hug. She reciprocated in kind, trying her best to stay calm as she held him tighter. “You don’t know how much I needed this,” he whispered, clearly only to her. 

As they parted, Sasha gave him a quick kiss and said, “Me too.” 

“Alright _lovebirds_ ,” Martin said from the car, “I am not putting the car in park so hurry up.” 

“Afraid she won’t start back up again, huh?” Tim laughed, reclaiming his bag and climbing into the backseat. 

“No, this is just a pick-up area so we aren’t allowed to idle.” 

“Suuuure it is! But cops would take one look at me and say ‘ _oi, that bloke’s been attacked by flesh eating worms, better let him off with a warning’_ , so.” 

“Just show them our Institute IDs and they’d go running,” Sasha chimed in, trying to lighten their train of thought.

“Fair yeah, nobody wants to get sectioned.” 

They continued bantering about the best ways to get out of parking tickets the entire way back to Tim and Sasha’s flat. 

“Have fun going home to your husband!” Tim hollered as Martin pulled away. 

Once inside, Tim was ecstatic. “Oh how I’ve missed you, plants! Did you miss me too?” 

“I’m sure they did, Tim.” 

He pretended to take offense at that, and clicking his tongue, responded, “Of course they did, Sasha, they were stuck with only you for company.” Tim then went to put his bag down in the bedroom, and Sasha followed, unsure of what to say. _Maybe he just wants to forget this ever happened._ “I’m going to change, I think, take these bloody mummy wraps off of my beautiful face.” 

“Oh, yeah okay.” Sasha still wasn’t sure how she’d feel to see him without them. She thought grimly of how Martin had described Jon’s scars, and shaking her head, went to get a glass of water. It’s not like she wasn’t excited to have Tim back at home - she was _thrilled_ , and it finally felt as if reality had returned to their lives. She could almost pretend that Tim and Jon had been hospitalized for a mundane workplace injury, some incident with a stapler or something. Almost. 

Nervously sipping, she heard Tim rustling in the other room. He was talking to himself too, muttering at first and then loudly cursing every once in a while. 

When he emerged, Sasha couldn’t help but gasp. 

“I...I know it’s kinda weird.” Tim said, sheepish and unwilling to meet her eyes. He was in a more characteristic getup now, and the corny muscle tank from his gym was showing off some serious scarring. At a distance, Sasha could even pretend they were freckles, maybe moles, but there was no mistaking what she already knew. 

In a way Sasha couldn’t explain, seeing the rounded scars just thrust her mind into images of the worms themselves. Thousands of tiny, crawling masses, latching onto her and digging into exposed skin. Fast, silent, dangerous. Martin, corkscrew in hand, digging out a lucky worm before it could encase itself in his skin. She couldn’t quite hear the yelling, but she could definitely smell the fire extinguisher. 

“I’m not used to it either, honestly…”

Sasha hadn’t remembered to vocalize, and now Tim was staring. _Oh fuck._

“Tim, it’s okay. It’s - you couldn’t have done anything different.”

“Except I have to live with this,” he said, voice raising slightly. He gestured to his face, one side of which was excessively dotted with worm holes. 

Sasha closed the distance between them, moving to take his hand. His skin wasn’t quite healed completely, the shiny scar tissue still pink in places. It _was_ weird, but this wasn’t the end of the world. Her stomach churned slightly, trying to chase away visions of the things that had left those marks on his face and arms and undoubtedly more of his body she still hadn’t seen. 

“You’re still pretty cute, you know,” She managed, swallowing as she reached her free hand up to cup his cheek. “Bet they don’t look as sexy on Jon.” 

Tim laughed hollowly, his eyes growing wet again. “Oh no, can’t outdo the bossman, what would Elias think?”

Wistful, Sasha smiled, “I don’t give a damn what Elias thinks. I know I’m right.” 

They both fell silent for a moment. Sasha was trying to find something encouraging to say, but Tim beat her to the punch. 

“If you...seriously Sash. I had enough time to think this over. If you don’t want me like _this_ , I’d understand.” 

Furrowing her brow, she immediately shot back, “Fuck’s sake Tim. Of course I want you.” She didn’t bother to wait for another self deprecating comment, instead leaning up to kiss him in earnest. He smiled against her lips, and she counted that as a victory. As they parted she added, “You think I was lying? It might be awhile before the worms leave my nightmares, sure, but you look quite good, Tim. The scars add a little...oh I don’t know...bad boy energy?” 

She knew she’d gotten him there, feeling his arm relax around her. 

“Didn’t take you for the bad boy type, Sash.” 

“I am only human.” 

-

Tim really wished his brain would just calm down. His first full day back in their flat had been fine, _truly fine_ , and he had nothing to worry about. So what if it took time to get used to his new reflection in the mirror? If Sasha still loved him - _and oh how much I still love Sasha, trying to be so strong for the rest of us_ \- then he was sure he’d be okay eventually. 

It was her idea after all, late at night when neither of them could sleep, to invite Jon and Martin over again the next day. She had admitted to him that she hadn’t really been keeping tabs on Jon while they’d been out, instead relying on Martin’s occasional check-ins. They had turned to talking of work, and how neither of them felt like they could leave even though they wanted to. Tim hadn’t been able to voice his feeling that they had been tied together somehow. Shared trauma did that to people, he knew. 

After losing Danny, he was grimly happy to not have to go through more trauma alone. 

And so now he was waiting, calmly, to let his coworkers in when they arrived. Sasha was taking a last minute shower, and he had already set the Wii up. _Tsk, tsk Nintendo. Why is there no worm scar facial feature available for Miis?_

Knowing Jon would have little interest in doing so himself, Tim stopped trying to add scars to his avatar and created a new one for his boss. 

Before he could choose a favorite color for the thing (physical features are easy, of course, it's the subjective part that takes time), there was a knock at the door. 

“Would you look who it is!” Tim exclaimed as if there had been any question at all who was there.

Martin was smiling, and Jon was...yes Jon was trying to smile too, which was more effort than usual. 

“Hello Tim,” he said, scratching at his jumper ineffectually, “Good to see you out of quarantine.” 

Tim noticed that Jon’s scarring was more severe than his own, as he had known it would be from what he remembered of the original injuries. In a weird way, it sort of fit his ‘aloof professor’ look. Despite his opinions of Jon (both positive and negative), Tim sincerely hoped Jon was handling this situation well. He definitely wouldn’t admit it, but he also hoped Martin was helping Jon as much as Sasha was helping him. 

“Yeah bossman, glad you made it. Come on in, come on. Martin you have to make your Mii - also pick Jon a shirt color.” 

Hanging his jacket, Martin chuckled. “If you insist.” 

“Oh we insist,” Sasha said, finally emerging from the bedroom, “Sorry I’m late. Indoor gardening accident earlier.” 

“How does one have a _gardening incident_?” 

“Jon, have you never seen dirt in your life?” 

Tim didn’t care to hear an answer to that, and went to explain, “I definitely _did not -”_

Sasha immediately interrupted to correct him. “Tim upended a whole bag of potting soil this afternoon.” 

Sasha had gotten a new fern while he was gone, but had saved re-potting it until Tim came home. And he really hadn’t meant to make a mess. These things just happen.

While Martin set off to make his own cartoon likeness, Tim grabbed drinks for everybody from the kitchen. After a moment of consideration, he precariously added an extra beer bottle so Jon could be prepared with two from the start.

“What...game have we decided on for tonight?” Their boss questioned, settling into the chair more deeply. Unlike previous game nights, Martin had taken a pillow from the couch and put himself on the floor in front of him. _Jon wi_ _ll be on the couch in no time_. 

“Figured we could stick to the basics. No torturing you with Mario Kart this time.” 

“And what are the basics, Stoker?” 

“Wii Sports!” 

Jon made a face that Tim couldn’t read, and accepted the double beer offering.

“Any requests? I don’t think we have enough nunchucks for boxing though,” Sasha winced, picking up her controller as she nestled into Tim on the couch. 

“Tennis would be fun, we could do teams that way,” Tim laughed, “Nothing like a double date absolutely dominating Wimbledon. Wii-mbledon, actually.” 

He got a Wiimote to the gut for that one, but Martin selected tennis nonetheless.

“Jon, you don’t have to get up if you don’t want to,” he said, standing, “But I have a feeling Tim and Sasha are very good at this, so I’m going to.” 

Tim knew that he and Sash were in fact good, but didn’t feel the need to rub it in. 

“I think I’ll be quite fine sitting, thank you Martin.” 

Sasha looked at him, her devious smile returning as she pulled them to their feet, her hand low on his back. “We can stand with you Martin,” she said, without changing her focus. Tim cared way too much about winning at party games, but he decided in that moment that he cared much more about Sasha looking at him like that. 

It did not take long for Tim to also decide that he had picked the wrong sport. Jon and Martin served first and hadn’t lost a service game. With a practiced dexterity, Jon flicked his wrist idly while the others did as the game had intended, flailing about the room. 

After the first match had ended overwhelmingly in their favor, Martin turned to him and just said, petulantly, “Excuse me?”

“What?” 

“Jon, how are you - sorry, you’re awful at Mario Kart but good at _this_?”

Jon smiled fully now, perhaps for the first time since Tim had known him. Taking a swig of his drink, he simply said, “You insisted Tim and Sasha were good, so I didn’t go easy on them.” 

“We are good, thank you very much,” Sasha interjected, “You are something else.” 

Tim chugged his beer as Martin started the second row. 

It was hard to tell if they had needed to warm up or if Jon was going easier, but they managed to get at least a close game going. Jon had started to move more at least, adding to the overall chaos of the room. It wasn’t quite as loud as when they raced each other, but being on teams allowed for an awkward chorus of yelling each other's names. 

“Boss, boss, booosssss why didn’t you tell me you had _superb skills_ such as these?” Tim said, a little breathless from the last few points. They had lost despite having an almost-comeback, but it was hard to feel bad about losing to such stiff competition. 

Jon laughed, continuing to cooly sip at his beer. He hadn’t even touched the second one yet. 

As the night went on, it became apparent Jon really was only great at tennis - he was just _good_ at everything else. Average even. 

“I just want to say I beat my boss in Wii baseball, is that too much to ask?” 

“Perhaps next time, Tim. It’s getting rather late.” 

“Wow I didn’t even notice the time,” Sasha said, checking her phone, “You’re welcome to stay of course, but -” 

“It’s alright Sasha,” Martin said softly, “Now that I don’t have to go back to the Institute it isn’t the worst thing in the world to go home at a reasonable hour.” 

Tim knew he couldn’t argue with that, and happily helped them out.

“I’m holding you to that, Jon! You will face me again!” 

Martin and Jon were holding hands as they walked down the hall towards the elevator, neither of them bothering to turn around to face Tim again as they laughed. 

“Goodnight!” Sasha hollered after them, forcing Tim back inside. 

“I guess we shouldn’t be too surprised he’s good at Wii...something, right?” 

“My money’s on that one ex he’s still friends with? She must have something to do with it.” 

Sasha quirked her brow as if she was thinking, but didn’t explain further.

“Sash you can’t just leave me with that!” 

“Martin swore me to secrecy, get him to tell you.” 

Tim realized happily, as they dressed for bed, that they hadn’t spoken of worms or work at all that night. 

“Thanks for suggesting this tonight, I - we all needed that I think.” 

“Shush, you don’t have to thank anyone,” Sasha said over her shoulder as she shrugged into one of his old shirts, “Besides, we owed Martin for transport yesterday.” 

“I suppose. But I never would have thought of it, and you did, and you’re _you_ , so…” Tim knew he didn’t have to explain himself, and Sasha simply smiled as she went to brush her teeth. 

He had missed this the most while in the hospital - sharing his space with her, curling up with her each night, even the easy conversation. Tim could get a taste of her over the phone, even texting, but it was never the same. They fit together too well. Falling into bed after also taking the time to wash up (worm scars might be growing on him, but they still need cared for), he wondered how he spent months sleeping next to her without touching. Immediately Sasha reached for him and tangled their legs and weeks later Tim still got a stupid grin on his face just from holding her. 

“I’m really happy you’re home, Tim.” 

“I’m really happy you moved in,” he said with a laugh, earning himself a kiss on the cheek. 

“I love you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! Thanks for reading this fic which accidentally turned into my first long form that I've ever finished (and the first one I've written at all in a loooong time.) One last thanks to my personal cheerleader and beta @steamingcupoftea, who you should blame for all of Tim's puns making it through to the published version. 
> 
> If you want to interact with me on the hellsite, you can find me on tumblr @pepperpotsnpans. Thank you for flying timsasha airways.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! shout out to @steamingcupoftea for being the co-pilot of this plane. Second chapter preview: Jon swears a lot.


End file.
